A Day As Good As Any
by EternalPandemonium
Summary: You turn a corner at work and bump into a co-worker, spilling your coffee on them.


After a couple of months (or was it a year?), I'm back to writing. I can't say if it would be continuous but I'll do my best. Right now, my writing seems a bit rusty so I'll practice for a while before I continue my fics or write new fics again.

I saw an app that gives a prompt so I downloaded it. It's also because I was looking for an excuse to write again. With all the shit I'm reading, my head just needed to let out a few ideas for a bit.

And honestly, I don't know what happened to this one. I don't know how an office works, or what really is going on in Stark Industries, so I'm sorry for some errors that you might come across.

Oh yeah, this ignores Beth and Steve's relationship. Let's pretend they haven't met before.

I still haven't decided what would come out of this one-shot, but let's see.

Feel free to review or something.

Prompt: You turn a corner at work and bump into a co-worker, spilling your coffee on them.

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><p><strong>A Day As Good As Any<strong>

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><p>The day is as good as any. That's what I told myself.<p>

I had never been so wrong.

It started out like any day would. I woke up, checked the time, swore, showered, got dressed and went to work.

I never really spent that much time in my dingy apartment, not for the obvious reason that I'm running late, but seeing as it's so...lifeless.

White, dirty, barren walls.

A dusty window and two white, wooden doors, one leading to a bathroom and one leading out.

A brown, wooden closet with a dirty mirror.

A plain white, unmade bed with a brown, wooden desk at the side.

That's all there is to it, really. You would think a 24 year old like me, a female no less, would have the time to decorate or to at least put a little feminine touch to my apartment.

Seeing as I'm working at the very famous Stark Industries under their Technological Research Department, I never had the time. Well, it's not like it's because of the work, but more like because it's my choice to be a "little" workaholic. I love my job, you see.

And I love socializing with my co-workers. If you call us bitching about our boss socializing, that is.

To be honest, I spend more time at work and outside than at my apartment, since the only purpose of it is for sleeping and taking a bath.

Speaking of time, I didn't reach my work place on time. With the hustle and bustle of the New York office slaves struggling and rushing to meet their schedules, too, who was I to compete with that? I would probably end up being more late than I intended anyway. So in that moment I said, fuck it, I'm walking.

So I walked.

I arrived at the Stark Tower thirty minutes late, and to say my boss was angry was an extreme understatement.

He was pissed.

Just the way I liked it.

I flashed my I. D. to Happy Hogan, for added security, he said, and checked in at the front desk.

As soon as I reached my floor and went to dump my things at my work desk, Gregory Babb swooped down on me like Severus Snape does to his precious little Gryffindors.

And I haven't even sat yet.

Gregory Babb is the Head of the Technological Research Department of Stark Industries. A typical fat man with a mustache.

Oh, and I was determined to make his life a living hell.

I'm not going to tell you a sob story about how we go a way back in school, or how he bullied me before, seeing as it's impossible since he's at least a decade older than I. I hate him because he's a pompous, arrogant jerk.

And he's smart and not afraid to show it.

"Johnson, this is getting out of hand! You little shit, how many times have you been late this week, huh? You're annoying me on purpose, aren't you?" he yelled with spittle flying out of his mouth, earning some looks from my co-workers.

Should I annoy him? Well, it's a day as good as any.

I looked at him, and I swear I just looked him in the eye and said as nonchalantly as I could, "Well, good morning to you, too, sir."

Add a little smirk and the deed is done. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

At that instant his fat face turned red and bristled with indignation.

"Don't play dumb with me, Johnson!"

I raised a challenging brow at him and I swear he looked like he was choking, the way he was spluttering, the jerk.

He quickly smoothed down his features and slowly calmed down, and as soon as I thought that the conversation was over, he jabbed his meaty, little finger at me and said before he left, "See to it that it won't happen again or Mr. Stark will hear about this."

Eat slugs, Malfoy. It's not like Mr. Stark would do anything about it, really.

I had been at this job for a year and I've been annoying Mr. Babb for about seven months now. I've been threatened by the same threat countless of times after he went through the threat once.

Needless to say it did not go to his favor, nor mine.

I remember that day I was summoned to the CEO's Office. I was working on a research about self-powered air-conditioning units when I was escorted by Ms. Potts' secretary. In the room were Ms. Potts herself, the legendary Mr. Stark and Mr. Babb, that jerk. Ms. Potts asked how my day was, and I said fine. Mr. Babb promptly told me it was about to be worse, but not before glaring at me.

Mr. Stark, God bless that man, went straight to the point. He abruptly cut through his next statement and asked me why I decided to piss off the guy every day, purposely being late (as tardiness seems to set off Mr. Babb just fine) and doing other stuff just to rile him up. As a professional woman working for Stark Industries, I responded accordingly.

And by accordingly, I meant saying that, "Because he's a pompous jerk who treats his subordinates like they're no more than the dirt beneath his shoe."

As usual, Mr. Babb looked like he was about to have a coronary and Ms. Potts looked mildly surprised, but I was more shocked to see Mr. Stark's response.

He just sat there, smirking, like we share an inside joke of some sort.

He dismissed the meeting after saying he'd rather eat lunch than solve some petty rivalry and ushered a perfectly poised, protesting Ms. Potts out of the room.

He told her he'd take care of the matter and on their way out I swear Mr. Stark winked at me.

The incident left me with a notification that I was to have a week suspension without pay for my tardiness, but not before Mr. Stark clarifying that he shall better not be hearing another report from us, or else. What he didn't clarify was the else.

So I guess it's safe to say I had an immunity of sorts when I rile Mr. Babb up, though I'm not immune to the consequences of my tardiness. I think Mr. Stark perfectly knew how much of a jerk he is, and that he deserved every bit of my torture. How he knew that, well, it doesn't really take a genius to see that the department suffers from the behavior of that man, the way he yelled at us every time instead of asking for things like a normal human being.

Though I guess on the work aspect, we're not really that suffering. Actually, he does his job well, and I think that's why he's still at the company. He's just really a jerk. And given my track record, I'm more likely to be given the boot than him.

After Mr. Babb left, I immediately sat down and continued my unfinished work. That went on until lunch time.

Lunch was fairly normal. The Tower had its own cafeteria, but my encounter with Mr. Babb had put me off socializing so I went to the café down the block instead. A cup of black coffee and three slices of mango cake did wonders to my mood and I returned to Stark Tower on time.

As I was in the elevator, I received a text from non-other than the jerk himself, telling me to get him a cup of coffee and to be quick with it.

And it all went downhill from there.

Of course, this led to a barrage of insults coming from my mouth and a tantrum that can rival a child's, with the elevator, or possibly JARVIS, as the poor audience. I had no choice so I decided to suck it up and get it over with.

The cafeteria is a normal one, as normal as a cafeteria of a Stark caliber can be. There's a wide selection of American food, though Chinese, Thai or exotic foods like shawarma seems to be lacking. The best part of working in Stark Industries resides in this baby. All of these are free, as long as you work for the company.

I got my boss the coffee he needed and got the hell out of there. I reached the Research floor in record time. I turned the corner and to my luck, I spilled the coffee everywhere when I bumped into a wall.

Or rather someone.

"Shit, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking-"

"I'm so sorry m-"

In that moment I felt my heart stopping. Of all people I would've spilled my coffee into. As my luck would have it, I've spilled them on Steve Rogers, Captain freaking America.

My best friend and crush.

You see, Steve and I became friends when I invited him to my family dinner on impulse. He saved me during the alien attack in New York, so I figured it's just right to give him my thanks. At first he was hesitant because he said it wasn't needed, but after some convincing he finally gave in. I remember that time. I was so intimidated back then.

During the dinner we found that we both appreciate art and old music, so I made a promise that I'll take him to art museums and exhibits during my (close to non-existent) spare time. I'll never forget how his smile lit up the room.

I tried hard to make good on my promise just so I can see that particular smile again. I managed to squeeze it in my schedule, and the first time we went to an art exhibit, he was just so happy. I wanted to keep him happy, it's the least I could do for him. So I told him I'll take him somewhere he might like.

He just said, "All right. Surprise me."

The second time we went out, I took him to a bar where people dance to swing music during his time. That was the time I stopped calling him Mr. Rogers. That was the second time I saw his smile.

Needless to say, us hanging out became a habit, and from that habit developed a crush.

And I think it's safe to say it developed into something more.

"I'm really sorry! I'm so stupid sometimes, I wasn't looking where I was going!" I said as I pitifully scrubbed the stain out of his gray shirt using my handkerchief. It was not coming off.

He told me it was fine. I offered to get his shirt cleaned up, but he refused and said he'll take care of it later. In fact, he kindly offered to get me another cup of coffee. It took me an ounce of my willpower not to cry right there and then.

"And I kind of need to talk to you about something. Walk with me to the cafeteria?" he scratched the back of his head and sent me a sheepish smile.

The walk to the cafeteria was an awkward affair and I could not comprehend why. He was unusually silent and it was making me nervous.

"Spit it out, Steve. You're really freaking me out."

He sent another sheepish smile my way. He sucked his breath and said, "I need you to do something for me."

The weight that settled into my stomach slowly dissipated. "Oh, well, you name it, I'll do it."

He smiled.

He abruptly faced me and leveled his eyes to mine.

_God, those eyes!_

He put his arms to my shoulders.

_Damn, those arms!_

He leaned into me.

I swear I felt butterflies in my stomach.

And he said, "You're the best friend a guy could ever have. I'm so lucky have you, you know that right?"

_Best friend?_

And in that moment, the butterflies turned into lead.

_Best friend._

I playfully punched his arm, and grumbled, "Stop buttering me up, Rogers, just tell me what to do."

He sent me a look of mock hurt and said, "Ouch, back to last names now, are we?"

I smiled at him sweetly. "Would you stop changing the subject and tell me what to do?"

He looked forward and his silent demeanor came back once again. After a while, he spoke up. "I need you to distract Beth tomorrow."

Ah, good ol' Beth.

Beth is a wonderful waitress at a diner called Roller Plate, which is four blocks away from the Tower. Slim, brunette, and very energetic. The day I met her was the day I got my suspension memo. You see, when I'm feeling rather blue, I often eat by myself at different food establishments near the Tower. When I decided to try out the diner, that particular day she saw me by myself, looking very glum. I was confused for a while when I saw a big-ass bowl of ice cream in front of me.

"On the house, honey," she winked. "I hate to see a pretty girl like you looking so sad."

Steve, on the other hand, met her after one of our expeditions. I introduced Beth to Steve when we decided to eat at the diner. Turned out she was also saved by Steve during the attack.

I never expected them to get along so quickly.

It's pretty rad, though, since she often tagged along Steve and I's trips.

Sometimes I would get jealous, because the trips were Steve and I's thing. And during those times I would berate myself for feeling that way. Beth, after all, is a close friend.

I just never expected her to become Steve's girlfriend.

I gave him a confused look in return. "Beth? Distract her? For what?"

Steve stopped and I noticed that we reached the elevator. It opened with a _ding!_ and we stepped inside.

It was silent. So decided to break the ice.

"So why did you need me to distract her? What's going on, Steve?"

He gave me his most intense stare. Slowly, his lips tugged upwards to form a smile.

The _smile_.

Again, it sent butterflies to my stomach.

"I'm proposing to her tomorrow."

And again, the butterflies turned to lead.

His smile fell off his face when I just stared at him. I didn't trust myself to speak just yet.

"Please, say something."

I opened my mouth, willing the right words to come out, only to close it.

I opened it again.

_I like you Steve._

Then closed it.

_More than you'll ever know._

I sighed and gave up. I tried to mask the hurt, I really did, but I was afraid he'll see my face.

So I opted to just hug him tightly instead.

He must have been surprised because he tensed for a bit, but after a while, his arms slowly inched their way to my back. He hugged me just as tight.

"Are you mad that I didn't tell you sooner?" he asked me.

I wanted to tell him that, _yes, I'm mad_.

I wanted to tell him that, _because I'm your best friend._

I wanted to tell him that, _you should have told me something as big as this._

I wanted to tell him that, _you always come to me for advice_.

I wanted to tell him that, _what changed?_

But I chose to whisper.

_But I'll just whisper sweet words to you._

_Words of reassurance._

_Words of acceptance._

_From a happy best friend._

My voice was cracking. "Oh Steve, I'm so happy for you." _Even though I'm far from it._

My heart was breaking. "You're definitely going to be perfect for each other." _I can tell._

But I just laughed it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm just jealous right now because my best friend is getting married!" _I'm just so jealous!_

He hugged me tighter and I took the chance to relish the feel of his arms around me.

I took the moment to pretend that I'm the girlfriend. That I'm Beth.

It was his turn to whisper sweet nothings to my ear. "Oh, sweetie. You're going to find the one for you someday."

I broke the hug and smiled at him. "Yeah, Steve. Someday."

The elevator opened and we proceeded to the cafeteria to do what we came to do.

We didn't exactly talk that much. We opted to send each other these small smiles and before we went our separate ways, I told him what he needed to hear.

That time, with the sincerity he deserved.

"I'm really happy for you Steve. Don't worry, she'll say yes." _I'm sure of it._

With one last smile, we parted ways.

I gave my boss his cup of coffee after and I resisted the very strong urge to throw it at his head. To my utter disbelief, he thanked me.

I retreated to my work area and continued my work 'til evening.

I needed to stop the pain.

I needed a distraction.

I never would've stopped working if it weren't for my co-workers hollering for me to come with them to a bar.

"A night to relieve some stress!" they said.

I needed a night to forget it all.

So I agreed.

After all, it's a day as good as any.


End file.
